


A Normal Life

by Orangeblossom (edwardsmom)



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Gen, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 15:14:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5338754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edwardsmom/pseuds/Orangeblossom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For just one day, 15-year old Kira runs away from the Shakaar and tries to live, not the life of a freedom fighter, but a normal life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Normal Life

Kira Nerys looked long and hard at the face reflected back at her in the forest pond's still water. At that moment she couldn't remember a single day when she hadn't felt death close at hand, when she hadn't felt like the weight of all of Bajor rested on her shoulders, but the face looking back at her was mockingly young. Was it possible she was really only fifteen?

She touched the water's surface, disturbing it and her reflection. What sort of unreal life was she living, she suddenly wondered. She knew that there were people who didn't spend all their time hiding and killing, who laughed and played music and grew plants and walked openly, heads held high. That was the way it was _supposed_ to be! And she suddenly ached with longing for that other life.

Nerys got up quickly, before she could change her mind, before she could think it fully through. It was the time of the Gratitude Festival, and she knew that if she ran right now she'd be in time for the opening ceremonies at Dasaj.

***

Dasaj was one of the few villages the Cardassians had left undisturbed as an example of their benevolence. The inhabitants, uneasy with their status but realizing the importance of maintaining a continuous link with Bajor's traditions and culture, now prepared for the Gratitude Festival, determined to celebrate for the sake of the rest of Bajor, and for Bajor's future.

"Peldor Joi!" an elderly Bajoran woman, carrying a basket of scrolls, greeted the breathless red-haired girl.

"Peldor Joi," the girl gasped in response.

The older woman smiled kindly, resting a frail hand on the girl's shoulder. "It has not started yet, and there are plenty of seats. Take your ease, child."

"Thank you, mother," she said in deference and respect for the other woman's age, wondering at how such a delicate woman had survived the rigors of the Occupation—but that was the point! In a village like Dasaj, in the world as it was supposed to be, _everyone_ survived, _lived_ , not just the strong. Not just the ones who could look the enemy in the eye and kill.

Nerys took a scroll from the proffered basket and smiled wholeheartedly at how easily, how naturally she slipped into this other life she'd never known. "Thank you," she said again, all she could think of saying but doing so from her heart.

She strolled in front of the booths set up in the village square, trying to catch her breath, looking out of the corner of her eye at people until she was convinced that no one took the slightest notice of her, that every passerby simply accepted her as another person celebrating at the Festival. Finally relaxing, she took a deep breath and straightened, greeting everyone with a smile and a "Peldor Joi!" with so much heartfelt emotion behind it the phrase ceased being ritual and became new again.

Nerys bought a jumja ice and made her way through the crowd to the seating area and found a space in one of the rows. She felt around the back of her head with one hand until she found the clip that had come loose in her hair, then took a bite of her ice. When she looked down, she saw a tiny, eager face with wide green eyes watching her every movement.

"Peldor Joi!" Nerys said, amused.

"Peldor Joi," the little girl echoed politely.

"My name's Nerys. What's your name?"

"Iali. I'm free."

Nerys held up three fingers in question, just to be sure, and Iali nodded. "That's a nice age to be," she assured the little girl. "Are you hot? Would you like some jumja ice?" Iali nodded slowly. "Well, if you want some, you need to say—"

"—please," someone else finished. Nerys suddenly noticed Iali's companion, a young man not much older than herself, with sandy brown hair and solemn green eyes, who had to be Iali's brother.

"—palukoo galukoo," Nerys corrected with a teasing glance at him. Then she gave her attention to the little girl again as she encouraged, "Can you say that?"

Iali took a deep breath and then said carefully, "Palukoo gamukoo."

Nerys grinned and handed the little girl the ice. When she saw that Iali's companion's look was slightly disapproving, she explained, "She was close enough."

"At this rate she'll never learn manners _or_ proper pronunciation," he observed.

She looked at him frankly, and found that despite his too-grave demeanor, there was something almost likeable about him. "What's your name?" she asked.

He raised his eyebrows, but answered, "Garin."

Iali handed the jumja ice back to Nerys, and she in turn held it out to him. "Peldor Joi, Garin!"

He took the ice gingerly from her, as she knew he would, since politeness dictated it. "Peldor Joi, Nerys," he said, and took a small bite and handed it back.

The opening ceremony began, and Iali stood on her seat the better to see. But this put her on a level with the top of Nerys's head, and the red hair so close at hand was irresistible to the little girl.

"Iali!" Garin hissed as he realized what she was doing.

Nerys made placating motions at him, not minding the small hands tangling in her hair. She reached up and showed the little girl how to run her fingers through her hair as if combing it. Garin, not able to do anything yet still upset, watched as his little sister played with a stranger's hair as if with a doll's. And all three of them, preoccupied as they were, were surprised when the Gratitude Festival was declared as begun.

Now that people were free to talk and move about, Garin stood and snatched Iali around her waist, holding her against his hip. "I'm sorry, Nerys. Iali won't bother you again."

"She wasn't bothering me," she assured him, putting the clip back in her hair. "It really was okay!"

"She distracted you from the Opening Ceremony. You weren't able to make your prayers, say any—"

"Garin!" She grinned at him, disbelieving. "That doesn't matter! I feel gratitude—I'm grateful, just to be here! I'm grateful to have met Iali. You don't know how long it's been—" She stopped herself, realizing that there was no reason that Garin had to know why she was here. "She's a very sweet girl. And you may be a little inflexible, but I'm grateful that I've met you, too, believe it or not."

He looked like he wasn't sure he liked being made fun of. She grinned at him and took another bite of jumja ice as he explained stiffly, "The Opening Ceremony and prayers have been handed down to each new generation. To break the tradition—"

"—might not be a bad thing, if there's genuine gratitude and thankfulness in its place." She looked at him, in earnest now. "It's good to be here today, Garin. It's good to be alive. It's good to know that children still take joy in simple things. It's even good to know that we can talk about breaking traditions. What if we couldn't?"

He stared at her for a long moment. "I...don't think I understand you." He shifted Iali to his other hip.

She smiled and shrugged. "What's to understand? Come on—the Festival's waiting, and I bet Iali's hungry."

"We...we've got plans."

"Can I tag along?" she asked, deciding that Garin was going to be her little project and by the end of the day she'd get him to loosen up a bit. "I don't have any plans, I'm here alone—"

"I don't think—"

"Look, Iali, over there! Jugglers! You want to see the jugglers?"

"Palukoo gabukoo!" the little girl cried, wriggling out of Garin's grasp, taking Nerys's hand and pulling her towards the jugglers. Nerys looked over her shoulder with a bright smile and a shrug and trotted after the little girl. Garin sighed, shouldered his bag and followed.

***

At least Garin had the grace to give in when he realized he had no choice, Nerys had to admit when Iali had dragged them both to see the conjurers and then the parvo races after they saw the jugglers. Now the little girl followed her nose and found the food stalls.

"No, Iali, we brought our own, remember?" Garin said gently, turning her away from the booths. "Let's go find someplace to sit and eat, okay?" He looked at Nerys and said, "I made a lot."

"Was that just a general observation or an offer to share your lunch?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Sure. Yeah, if you want to. You're not so bad once you get used to you."

She laughed. "Well, thank you! Why don't I get some drinks and meet you? How about—there's a storyteller on the stage over there, do you think Iali'd like to listen while she ate?"

"Sure. We'll be..." He glanced around. "There's some shade on the right side, we'll be there."

Nerys bought some cold cehena juices, liked the look of the little bedo cakes and bought three of those, and then decided what the heck and bought a bag of brightly colored taen candy, too. She found Garin and Iali sitting in the shade on Garin's cloak, Iali recounting all they'd done and seen so far, but when she caught sight of Nerys she left off and said,

"Look, Nerys! Look at all the food!" As Nerys sat down with Iali between her and Garin, Iali pointed out the bread and fruit and meat and cheese and vegetables laid out on the grass, making sure Nerys appreciated everything fully. Then she caught sight of the bundles Nerys had brought with her and demanded, "What is it, what is it?" Iali almost tore into a bedo cake before Garin insisted mildly,

"Have some bread first, Iali." He wrapped a hunk of bread around some meat and vegetables and handed it to his little sister, who settled just as happily for the main course as for dessert.

Nerys handed each of them some juice and added her other acquisitions to the pile of food.

"You didn't have to," he said softly, indicating the candy and cake.

"I wanted to. I thought you and Iali'd like them."

"But I know how expensive they are! Why—"

"Okay, I bought them because _I_ like them!" She reached for some bread and cheese. "I haven't had bedo cake or taen candy in I don't know how long." She looked a challenge at him.

He looked unhappily at the food. "Nerys, there's no way I could ever repay—"

"Oh, forget it, Garin! That's not why I bought them, to make you feel bad! I had the money, I spent it." She shrugged. "What's money?"

He stared hard at her. "What?"

She took a bite of bread instead of answering Garin's question. Had she just revealed herself—did people like Garin feel differently about money, when they'd worked hard to earn it instead of coming across it during a raid, when they had to pay for lodgings and food instead of hiding in the forest and caves and foraging for what they could?

She didn't have to work to find a new topic of conversation as her eyebrows went up in appreciation at the taste of the bread. "Did you make this?" she asked.

Iali answered her. "Garin made everything. It's delicious."

"Yes, it is," she answered Iali, but she looked at Garin. "Good job."

"Thanks." He took a piece of fruit and looked away.

Nerys took a deep breath, centering herself, determined not to betray herself again. "Want some cheese, Iali?"

"Uh-huh. Look, there's someone else on stage!" she cried.

A man with a close-trimmed silver beard and long silver hair in a braid down his back had mounted the stage, a harp under one arm and a drum under the other. As he sat on the high stool in the middle of the stage, he strapped the small drum to his thigh and rested the harp on the stage against the stool. "Who's ready for a song?" the balladeer demanded heartily.

The clapping started. He cupped his hand around his ear. "What's that? I can't hear you!"

The children started shouting, "I'm ready!" and he laughed, drumming out a familiar ballad beat. The children settled down.

"Let's start with one we all know. How about 'The Wedding of Syola the Slug and Pareus the Parvo'?

Oh, Syola the Slug  
hid under the rug  
when Pareus the Parvo ran by..."

Nerys grinned and sang loudly along with Iali, remembering the song, which recounted the courtship of the slow slug and the speedy parvo and how they dealt with the gift of a salt lick at their wedding, from her faraway childhood. When they reached the nonsense chorus, Nerys elbowed Garin and he joined in, embarrassed. But by the last verse, caught up in how much fun everyone was having, especially his little sister, he was able to sing with gusto,

"Iky biky teminiky,  
iky biky moo,  
mezi bezi ramirezi,  
Syola and Pareus too!"

Garin, Nerys and Iali ate and sang along with the balladeer until he picked up his harp and started the historical ballads, slower songs about Bajor's past. Iali popped one more piece of candy into her mouth, curled up in Nerys's lap and promptly fell asleep.

Garin looked abashed. "I'll take her," he offered.

She waved him off. "That's okay. I think she likes me." Nerys bent and looked at the small face in her lap, stroking sand-colored hair back from a sticky cheek. "It's kind of nice, actually."

"You must not be around children much," he said dryly.

"No, I'm not."

"No brothers or sisters?"

She looked up, met his solemn gaze and although she knew it was an innocent enough question, she felt flustered anyway. "Um, not where I'm living." And then she wanted to hit herself because of course the next question would be—

"Where are you living?" He gave her a frank look. "I've never seen you before, and I _know_ I'd remember someone like you." She flushed under his scrutiny.

"Velis," she lied quickly.

He nodded. "North of the forest?"

"East." He nodded again, and she began to relax. "When Iali wakes up, I think she'd like feeding the thorries," he said.

"Can I join you for that, too?"

"If you want to." He started to repack his bag. Nerys carefully moved Iali out of her lap and stretched out next to her, stroking the little girl's hair gently. Garin observed, "You're pretty good with kids."

Nerys didn't look up. The moment froze in front of her eyes as she realized that she might have made a good mother. She might never know for sure, might not live long enough to become one, but for now, she'd connected with a little girl and it was good for them both. "Thanks," she said, her voice hoarse with fighting back sudden tears. The feeling, the sight of Iali, the sad music from the balladeer, Garin's tone containing no rancor or suspicion, only matter-of-factness—it was almost too precious to stand.

She laid her head next to Iali's. "It's good to be here, Garin," she whispered.

***

She awoke with a start to see Iali's impatient face and, hovering above it, Garin's amused one. "Come on, Nerys!" the little girl urged. "The thorries are waiting!"

Nerys sat up, brushing crumbs out of her hair. "Sorry," she said, inwardly shocked at what had happened. She never, _never_ dozed off, no matter how tired she was—it was too dangerous. And yet, she'd fallen asleep in front of two people she'd only met that day!

"Have a good nap?" Garin asked, and she knew he was teasing her.

"Fine, thanks," she returned in the same manner, standing and shaking out her clothing. Was she fitting into this other life that much—did other people simply lay down their heads and sleep wherever they found themselves? Did she... _trust_ these people that much?

Iali tugged at her hand. "Come on!"

Nerys waited for Garin to shake out his cloak and fasten it around him, and then she willingly let herself be led out of the village square.

"... _someone_ step up and win this beautiful—" The woman running the skills games saw them and cried, "You there! Hit the target, win a prize!"

"You make it sound easy," Nerys answered.

"It is, it is! Nothing could be simpler. Buy as many plays as you want. Something for the little lady, something for you, something for the young man." She gestured to one of the booths, where children used water as the projectile to hit the target. Another game involved throwing weighted balls at the target, and yet another utilized a long-nosed gun that shot compressed air.

Nerys looked down at Iali. "You want to try?"

Garin touched Nerys's sleeve. "I don't have enough—"

"My treat, Garin. You want to try a game, too?"

"Oh, that's right. 'What's money?'"

"Don't be that way. Do you want to or not?"

Garin sighed. "Iali?"

"Palukoo galukoo!"

"Iali has spoken," he conceded, leading the way to the water game booth. All three of them played.

"The water pressure had an interesting weight...it seems to pull the directional device down and maybe a little to the left," Nerys observed. She paid for another game for them, put the knowledge to use and won. Iali clapped with delight as Nerys handed her the prize, a garishly-colored stuffed toy.

The woman running the booths regarded Nerys shrewdly. "Try your hand at this game?" And she held out the long-nosed gun.

Garin tried a game and missed every round. Nerys took one shot, gauged the gun's weight, range and recoil, and hit the target five times.

As the woman handed Nerys her prize, another stuffed toy, she grabbed Nerys's hands, pulled her close and said under her breath, "You could be very useful, young lady."

"Useful?" Nerys asked in the same undertone.

The woman nodded significantly. "Useful. To Bajor." She nodded again and released Nerys's hands.

As they walked away from the booths, Garin asked, "What was that about back there with that woman?"

Nerys handed him the toy to put in his bag. "I _think_ she was trying to hint, or—" She dropped her voice low, amused. "—recruit me."

"For what?"

She spoke even lower. "The Resistance."

Garin nodded. "Well, you're pretty handy with a gun. Where'd you learn that?"

She hesitated only briefly before she came up with the plausible answer, "My brothers."

"I'm going to name him Nerys," Iali suddenly piped up, holding up her toy.

"Why, thanks, Iali!" Nerys said.

"It's a nice name," Iali explained simply, then she cried, "I see them! Thorries!" She ran ahead to the pond's edge, scaring the thorries right and left. "Wait! We want to feed you!"

Nerys caught up to her and held her hand. "Not that way, Iali! Like this." Garin joined them as Nerys went on in a soothing, even voice, "You have to sit very quietly and pretend that you're the grass. You're green and soft and you just sit here and slowly, slowly grow."

"I don't want to be grass," she said stubbornly.

"Okay. How about a tree? Pretend you're tall, and your hair is leaves tossed by the wind, and you stand and watch over everything around you."

"Okay." They all stood tall and still, the wind lifting their hair like leaves on branches, and slowly one brown and blue thori started gliding across the pond towards them. Iali gasped, but Nerys squeezed her hand.

"Wait a little longer," she encouraged. Garin slowly opened his bag and brought out the rest of the bread, tore off a piece and handed it to Nerys. She handed it to Iali. "Okay."

Iali solemnly tore the bread into smaller pieces, not taking her eyes off the thori, and tossed the pieces onto the water. The thori obligingly darted forward and ate.

"Oh!" Iali breathed, delighted. They sat down on the grass and let Iali do most of the feeding as other thorries figured out that it was feeding time and glided across the water to oblige the little girl.

"That's a nice trick, about being a tree. Where'd you learn that?" Garin asked.

"If you don't want to be seen, one of the best ways is to just become another part of nature, to blend in."

"What would someone like you need to hide from?" She came up with an answer at the same time that he supplied his own. "Brothers." He smiled at her. "Where are they now?"

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "We got separated when we were relocated from our refugee camp."

"I'm sorry."

She looked at him. "Why?"

He shrugged. "It's different in Dasaj. I guess we're pretty lucky, all our family's intact—"

"Any other brothers and sisters?" she asked, curious.

"One more, Chera, she's just a baby still. My mother takes care of her; I take care of Iali. My father and uncles work the farm." He looked at her, looked away. " I know it's not that way in the rest of the world, and sometimes I feel kind of guilty about it."

"It's not your fault, Garin. It's just circumstance."

"I know. I just..." He threw a piece of bread to the thorries dozing on the grass. "Sometimes I wish I could _do_ something, Nerys! I want to help! At least if you joined—" He lowered his voice. "—the Resistance, you'd have something to offer them, you can handle weapons. What can I do?"

"An army would be able to march a hundred extra kilometers on the food you cook."

He laughed at his expense. "Right. But you know what I mean, don't you?"

"I don't know." She plucked at the grass. "I think...we all long for what we don't have. You've got your family; I don't. You're living a normal life, you'll get married and have a family of your own—"

"And you won't?" She looked at him sharply and he explained, "That's what you're making it sound like."

"None of us know what's going to happen," she said vaguely. "Anything's a possibility."

"Okay. Sure. But if you could do something to make a difference, wouldn't you?" She didn't answer. "Nerys, wouldn't you?"

"What's to do?" she asked, not sure how much she was giving away. "You're a link to the Bajor that was and the Bajor that will be. Isn't that doing something?"

"You _know_ what I mean!" he insisted. "Fighting—" She shushed him and he lowered his voice. "—for Bajor's freedom! Making the Bajor that will be, possible!"

"At what cost?" she demanded. "Your family? Your sense of...security, and trust? Your own future?"

"You know someone in the Resistance," he stated softly, with absolute certainty.

She froze. "I can't say."

"I'm sorry," he said, and looked genuinely troubled for, as he thought, bringing up a painful subject. "I don't know what I'm talking about, anyway, Nerys, what's involved, the cost of it. I'll stick with what I know."

"There's nothing wrong with what you know," Nerys managed to say. "I envy you, and I can't be the only one."

They sat not looking at each other, not saying anything else until Iali ran out of bread.

They walked back to the village square, where a dance was just getting started. Iali ran forward eagerly, bringing Nerys and Garin with her and making them join one of the forming circles. The band finished tuning and swung into "The Merry Prylar." Each of the circles joined hands and began to dance.

It had been so long since she'd danced, but the steps soon became familiar again to Nerys, and a smile she'd put on for Iali's sake turned genuine as Iali shrieked with laughter and the circle ran first one way, then the other, chasing the merry prylar wherever she went.

After a few more dances Iali piped up, "I'm hungry!"

"You just ate!" Garin told her.

"It was years and years ago," Iali insisted. "I'm hungry now!"

"Well, let's go home and get—"

Nerys interrupted, "No—here, let me—" She caught Garin's look. "It's the Festival. You can eat at home anytime," she told him. "Let's just celebrate, okay?"

"I don't want to be in your debt, Nerys."

"You're not. You've been a really good sport, Garin. And Iali's been wonderful. Let me buy you dinner. It's the least I can do. Okay?" She saw him softening and she pressed, "Okay?"

"Okay." He bent down to his little sister. "What do you want, Iali?"

"Over here," she said decisively, leading them towards the food stalls. After they loaded up with everything Iali pointed out, they found an empty table and sat down to watch the dancers and eat.

As the sun went down, the decorative lights strung from rooftop to rooftop across the square were turned on, and the booths ringing the square glowed with their own lights. Nerys sighed happily. "It's like a fairyland!"

"You think so?" Garin asked, teasing.

But she answered in all honesty, "I've had a wonderful time today. So good it's almost felt a little unreal. So, yes, 'fairyland' fits."

"Maybe you need to get out more often, Nerys."

She gave him a look, but smiled.

Iali ran off to play with the other children in a corner of the square, eager to show off her new toy. Nerys undid her clip and tried to get her hair to behave, a difficult task after the dancing. "Ow!"

"Here, let me help you," Garin said, his tone carefully neutral as he stepped behind her and combed his fingers through her long hair, loosening the tangles. She sat quietly under his ministrations, her hands folded in her lap, realizing that this was the first time all day that she and Garin had been alone with each other.

She wondered what would have happened now if she really had been just another village girl. Was it possible that the only thing she knew about romance was what she'd gleaned from ballads like "Syola and Pareus"? She remembered the first disapproving look she'd gotten from him, his green eyes so serious, and then how those same eyes had glowed with delight during the dancing.

Did she dare think it? Could she have fallen in love with him?

He bent down to get her clip, and their hands touched. She almost jumped at the contact, and turned, frightened. His face was at her shoulder, so close. All she had to do was lean a little bit...

Their lips touched briefly, and her face flushed hot as she moved away. She didn't feel as if she knew her own body anymore. Garin opened her hand, took her clip and fastened her hair back. When he was done she stood up abruptly, folding her arms across her chest.

"I'm sorry," she said in a small voice.

"Why?"

"I don't know." She looked down at the ground, and then out towards the forest. The game was over. "I've got to go."

"You're not going to walk by yourself, are you? Wait until I put Iali to bed, and I'll walk with you."

"No. That's okay."

"Or wait until morning. There's plenty of lodgings—"

"No more money." She put her hands in her pockets, jingled nothing.

"But where will you stay tonight?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. It doesn't matter. I'll find someplace."

"Nerys—!"

She looked at him, alarmed by his tone of frustration and anger. "What?"

He exhaled, upset but trying to calm himself. "Why did you do that? You've spent all your money, you can't buy lodgings, and you don't care! Why don't you think about the future, plan ahead?"

She looked at him, exasperated. "And if there isn't a future?"

"Of course there's a future!" He turned and with his gaze indicated all the children still playing in the village square. "There they are."

"Yes; Bajor's future. But not mine."

He looked as if he wanted to shake her. " _What are you saying_?"

"Garin, any of us could die, at any time, it makes no sense—"

"Only if we don't plan ahead, if we aren't careful! There's every reason to believe that everyone here will be here tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that—" At her expression, set and bleak, he said, "You know something, Nerys."

"No, I don't," she said, too quickly.

"Nerys...please—"

"Don't," she said, the ache inside her so strong now she had to look past him, afraid her eyes would give her away.

"Why did you follow me and Iali around all day? What's this about?"

"I'm sorry, Garin. I didn't mean..."

When she didn't continue, he prodded, "Didn't mean what?"

"Didn't mean...any of this. I don't know what I was doing. Please, Garin—"

"Nerys," a voice, low but commanding, came from behind them. They both whirled. She swallowed but didn't make a sound.

"Who's there?" Garin demanded, noticing Nerys's fear reaction and instinctively going on the defensive.

"You need not know my name. But Nerys needs to come with me. Now."

Garin glimpsed a profile sharply etched by moonlight. When the man turned and Garin saw the sad, resigned eyes, he gasped in recognition. It was Shakaar, the famed Resistance leader, taking an incredible risk to come and find Nerys. She must be very valuable to him, must—

And suddenly everything Nerys had said and done fell into place. He looked at her with new understanding, and wasn't sure if he felt more admiration for her, a resistance fighter, or more horror at the life she had to live.

Nerys took a step towards Shakaar, and then looked at Garin. She indicated the children at play. "Take care of the future, Garin."

He nodded, wanting her to know he understood. "You'll make sure they have one."

She nodded, and then nodded even harder as she realized that he'd put everything together. "Yes," she whispered.

Shakaar touched Nerys's shoulder, and they both walked away quietly, eventually blending into the shadows and making not a sound as they headed back to the forest. Garin watched until he no longer saw them, and then turned thoughtfully back to the village square.

Iali was rubbing her eyes, ready to fall asleep on her feet. He picked her up and settled her on his hip. She pressed her face against his shoulder and mumbled, "Where's Nerys?"

"She had to go home. And so do we."

He got her undressed and tucked in, saving the whole washing ritual until the morning. She curled up around her stuffed toy, named Nerys, and was asleep instantly.

In his own room, Garin opened his bag and found the other stuffed toy. He sat down on his bed and looked at it in the moonlight, and remembered the feel of heavy red hair running through his fingers. The sight of her asleep with an expression no longer mocking but open, trusting. A kiss that might and might not have been a kiss.

A remnant of a normal life. _For you, Nerys_. He stroked the toy gently, and then put it away.

***

Shakaar didn't speak until he and Nerys were back at the camp.

"Are you all right, Nerys?" he asked.

She looked surprised, as if she'd expected him to give her the reprimand and punishment she knew she deserved. But she answered, "What if I said I wasn't?"

"I'd understand."

She bit her lip, then decided. "I'm fine."

He nodded. "You won't do this again," he told her.

"No, sir."

"You know, Nerys, you can talk to me. Don't ever think you're alone in this." He tilted her chin up, forcing her to look at him, and said softly, "I care about you."

"I know, sir," she said, but wasn't able to give his words all the justice they deserved. She wasn't ready yet to feel the weight of his concern, and the enormity of what she'd risked.

She needed to feel fifteen years old just a little bit longer.

**_FIN_ **


End file.
